


The Piano

by gracethedisasterace



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, enjonine mention, jehantaire, jetaire, let my sons be happy 2k20, mostly musicalverse with hints of bookverse, not really tho, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracethedisasterace/pseuds/gracethedisasterace
Summary: Grantaire is worried, Jehan is not. Is there anything left to say?
Relationships: Grantaire/Jean Prouvaire
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Piano

Grantaire smiled as they stood outside the door of the Musain. It had been a fun meeting. Marius ranted about his Ursula, Enjolras started making a speech but then got too distracted by Eponine to continue, and then Jehan had held his hand under the table. Grantaire was... Happy. Really he was happy. And he wasn't even drunk!

Grantaire patted Jehan's arm. "Come on, I'll walk you home," he said good-naturedly.

Jehan's face turned pink. Well, pinker than usual. He always seemed to have a hint of natural flush and Grantaire would be damned if it wasn't the cutest thing in the world. 

Jehan cleared his throat. "I would like that very much," he said, strangely quietly.

Grantaire looked curiously at Jehan. "Hey, are you okay? You seem a little, I don't know, quiet."

Jehan looked up at Grantaire, eyes shining. "I feel amazing, Julian, I do," he smiled.

Grantaire grinned and offered his elbow as if he was a proper gentleman courting Jehan. "Come, good sir, let me escort you to your domicile," he said.

Jehan laughed softly and accepted Grantaire's arm, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. It was dark out, and the streets were mostly empty. For once, they could walk together without fear of some bourgeois idiot throwing rocks at them.

They walked together in silence. Grantaire tried to soak in every detail, knowing how rare and precious these moments were. Some day, these speeches about equality would turn into honest strategic planning. Combeferre had already begun marking up some maps of Paris, Gavroche stayed awake for the entire meeting, even Marius had been a little more politically minded. This happy state of vague ideals and idle planning was coming to a close. Soon, the cover of night would lead to the light of morning, and he didn't know if he could bear the brightness.

But that wasn't important, not now. Jehan was with him, and he had to enjoy that. Even if their happiness was doomed, it was happiness right here and now. That was the only important thing in the world.

The pair slowed down as they reached Jehan's apartment. He dropped his arm as if it was burning him. They were too close to people now. Any of the neighbors could be looking through their curtains, and Grantaire couldn't risk one of them becoming mad at Jehan.

Jehan didn't feel the same way, it seemed. He wrapped his arms around Grantaire and buried his face in his neck. They stood there for a moment, just breathing softly and enjoying it while it lasted.

Jehan yawned and pulled away. "I know it's really late, but... do you want to come in? I don't- I don't want to leave you yet, Julian," he whispered. There was something about the night air that forbade loud speech. 

Grantaire searched Jehan's eyes, sure there had to be some mistake. "Are you sure?"

Jehan smiled. "Of course I am! Come on, there's something I want to show you."

Grantaire allowed himself to be led up the stairs and into a small, sparsely furnished room. Not that it was dirty or bare, maybe "simple" was the better word. Every chair and table seemed worn, but well loved. Every vase had a few bright flowers blooming happily. But the most important furnishing was the small, banged up, but beautiful piano. 

Grantaire smiled widely as he stroked the chipped keys. "How... How did you get this?"

Jehan grinned. "An old aunt left it to me in her will. None of my cousins wanted it, they thought it was too ugly. But I remember Aunt Anastasie teaching me to play on this very instrument when I was just a boy," he said, clearly overwhelmed with nostalgia. 

Grantaire pulled Jehan close and kissed him. God, he would never get tired of it, would he? This was another of those moments that had to be savored, he never knew when or if another one like it would happen.

Grantaire was the first to pull away. It wasn't that he wanted the moment to end, not at all. But he knew Jehan would have that dopey, eyes half shut smile he always had after they kissed. He glanced at the piano.

"Play for me," Grantaire whispered. "Please, Jean."

Jehan sat down on the piano bench, pulling Grantaire down beside him. There really wasn't enough room for two people, but they didn't care. He took a deep breath and hovered his hand over the keyboard. "It's been so long since I've played with other people around," he said sheepishly. "I can't promise I'll be any good."

Grantaire kissed his temple. "You're perfect."

Jehan took another breath and slowly, hesitatingly began playing. It was soft and gentle, but it filled the small room with the most beautiful music Grantaire had ever heard. It was light and dreamy and so perfectly Jehan.

But it was almost too floating, it lacked foundation. Grantaire gulped and impulsively reached out. It had been so many years since he'd even seen a piano, much less played one. But he bravely plucked on, harmonizing as best he could.

Jehan chuckled. "I didn't know you could do that, Julian. It's beautiful."

Grantaire lowered his head. "I barely know what I'm doing."

"That's what makes it perfect," Jehan said, still playing. "You ground me, Julian. We're making it up as we go along, but as long as I have you to ground me, it will always be perfect."

Grantaire dropped his hands on the keys in a sudden discordant thud. He pulled Jehan onto his lap and kissed him slowly. "I don't deserve you, Jean Prouvaire. I don't."

Jehan stroked his hair. "It's not about deserving, Julian. I chose to love you. Don't take away my choice by making it about fate or destiny. I found you because I found you and I love you because I love you."

Grantaire didn't try to stop the tear from falling. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jehan sighed.

So maybe this happiness wouldn't last forever. But Jehan was here, and he loved him, what more could Grantaire ask for?


End file.
